


The right dance partner

by Nedrika



Series: P4 Memes [6]
Category: Persona 4
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Community: badbadbathhouse, Dancing Lessons, Dry Humping, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 16:37:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19445383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nedrika/pseuds/Nedrika
Summary: Kinkmeme fill.By popular demand, Yasogami High decides to host an American-style prom night for its graduating class, and everyone's excited----except Yosuke.See, problem is, Yosuke doesn't do ballroom dancing. But someone on his team should be able to teach him, right?





	The right dance partner

**Author's Note:**

> Almost exactly three years after the prompt was posted, and more than a week late for our beloved trash-kuns birthday. I can only apologise.

Yosuke almost didn’t catch the question, he’d been too busy watching his partner and trying to reconcile the fact that he was really back.

“Sorry, what?” he said, half his attention stuck on the way Souji’s hair stayed perfect even in the blustery March weather; all that time away from Inaba and he was still so much like he had remembered. Still impossibly cool, effortless and solid enough that he made the world around him more real and kept Yosuke grounded. He dragged his focus to Rise, who was leaning forward with an intense, wide smile that set him on edge.

“So, who’s your date to prom?”

He knew that he had completely and utterly failed to hide his shock the instant the question left her mouth. Shock and, to his shame, fear. She’d seen him staring at Souji and now she was casting about to see what tidbits she could gather. He was a beached fish on the shore: soundless, flapping mouth; flailing limbs and glassy, sightless eyes.

“Ha...haha,” he spluttered, casting about him at the worried faces. “Prom is overrated, I don’t need to go to that. It’s just the teachers trying to get us to shut up and behave before we graduate, right?”

It wasn’t that bad after all - they were looking on in the same tolerant weariness that sometimes accompanied him doing something unusually dumb. Nothing incriminating. Not that there was anything to incriminate him, he was allowed to look at his best friend, especially after a couple of months. Totally normal. Said friend was giving him that familiar inscrutable stare, and a warm drop of sweat trickled down through his hairline into his collar.

A memory came to him of praising prom the first week it had been announced, talking at exhausting length about the boon of girls in dresses and soft light and close holds. He’d imagined spending these few short days of peace between exams and the final celebration to be spent in pure, fantastical bliss before he realised that the close holds meant dancing and dancing meant not tripping over himself to land in the middle of the sea of dresses and sinking through the floor.

Ay, there’s the rub.

He decided to sail close to the wind and throw out a half-truth at least.

“It’s all American ballroom dancing anyway and nobody knows that stuff, it’s just going to be a mess!”

Rise’s hand shot up, her best winning smile almost blinding him. 

“Yeah, but you’re an idol, Rise. Dancing is half of your thing, that doesn’t count.”

Chie and Yukiko looked between each other for a beat before Chie half-raised her hand.

“We got lessons in our first year, the faculty is weirdly attached to this idea and got us all to try it in P.E. before you got here.”

He turned to her with something like betrayal festering in him. They were the ones he needed to be on-side the most since everyone else was a non-combatant in their graduation dance. Now he’d be that guy that was sat at home like a loser while his friends went to the party without him. 

“I learned for a case,” Naoto commented from the side, and Yosuke couldn’t bring himself to be shocked that now dance was added to her already considerable skill set.

“And I learned for… doesn’t matter, that’s why.” Kanji said, a blush spreading over him before he could bury his face in his glass. Yosuke narrowed his eyes at him but had finally learned enough to button it when he was about to make an ass of himself.

“I bet you’re a great dancer, senpai!” Rise trilled, leaning into Souji with an ease that still made Yosuke uneasy for reasons he didn’t want to think about.

“My parents made me have lessons, I’m okay but nothing special,” Souji said, pulling out another piece in the strange jigsaw of unrelated facts about his life before Inaba that Yosuke was assembling. There wasn’t a cohesive picture yet, but he was starting to get outlines.

“Aw, I’m so sad we won’t be there, I would have loved to see for myself!” she said, leaning back with a pout. “We’re going out that evening, I had to make the reservation in Okina ages before they announced the day of the dance or I would have definitely found a way to get the three of us in.”

“That would not have been necessary,” Naoto said, Kanji looking torn between them.

“Can people get in that aren’t in Sensei’s year?!” said Teddie, standing up with a clatter. “I’ve been reading up on dancing, and how it lets you get really close to girls and then it always leads to scoring. I want to try that!”

He was so earnest, and Yosuke could see the moment that Yukiko overcame her better judgement and their long history with Teddie and his wild behaviour. 

“I can get you in. We all get a plus one, and since Chie is my date I don’t really need it...” Teddie jumped at her with a wild yell and she shot her chair back to get out of the way. Her face hardened. “You’ll have to bearhave, Teddie.”

Teddie looked at her in wonder and nodded vigorously up at her from where he sprawled on the floor of the food court. “Beary bearst bearhaviour,” he breathed and Yukiko settled back in her chair, satisfied.

Chie looked to Souji with a carefully schooled expectation that, if Yosuke could see through it, spoke volumes of her acting capabilities. 

“Would you like to go as mine? Since it’s going spare as well…”

Souji smiled that tiny twitch that Yosuke still didn’t quite understand, and shook his head.

“I’ve got plans with Kou and Daisuke on Saturday, but thanks for the offer.”

Yosuke’s attention jerked up from where he was still stuck on Souji’s quirked lip and considered him a little closer; he had spoken to Daisuke that morning and he was most certainly not in town on Saturday - he had gone to extensive lengths to talk about the Reds tickets his new girlfriend had got him and the long weekend they were building around it. He narrowed his eyes but decided that if Souji would have a good reason for bending the truth. Maybe he just didn’t want to go and wasn’t wanting to bluster as he had done.

As though just thinking about it was enough of an invocation Naoto scraped her chair around to face Yosuke full-on. His heart dropped.

“Regardless of all our plans, if your lack of dancing knowledge is what is holding you back from the dance in fear you should hurt yourself, it is easy enough repaired.”

“It’s really ok, I won’t need it past that night anyway so I’ll pass!” he said, palms up in supplication and pouring as much of an appeal to Naoto’s mercy as he could into his voice.

“Nonsense. I can teach you easily enough and then it will be a skill for use in the future, you can’t be certain you won’t need it again. You’re light on your feet and have a tolerable sense of rhythm which is a fine start, and you should only need the waltz for a school ball. Everything other than that will be standard.”

“Depending on which teacher they put on the turntable!” Rise said, and a shudder ran around the circle. Kashiwagi’s music tastes were something Yosuke never wanted to consider.

He slumped a little, thinking of being close to a girl in the dark, hands in a soft embrace and sweet music on the air. The girl was carefully anonymous, and he didn’t think too much on the fact he hadn’t been asked or had anyone to ask, but the fantasy didn’t care. Hope still stuck to him like a limpet, dreams of someone emerging from the crowd on the night and quietly asking him to have that dance.

The rooftop was unusually empty, his heart was unusually light, and so the hope called him to his feet. He couldn’t look Naoto in the eye but edged his way between the tables to the largest clear area and cleared his throat.

She followed him out with no sound of triumph, only arranged his left hand to her shoulder and right out in hers, then off they went. The others were watching them quietly from their seats, but he pushed them out of his mind, intent on that thread of hope.

Naoto was counting the beat to him loud and clear, and he only tripped a couple of times before he caught up with the flow of it, Naoto giving him some very blunt directions that he wasn’t sure were helping him at all: “that is my shoe,” “that’s not the beat, it goes 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3...” He was still awkward and stiff, and now that he consistently in motion he was aware of the delicacy of Naoto’s fingers in his hand and the light weight of her touch on his waist. She attempted a turn and he very nearly careened into her chest before he jerked away, now too conscious of the outline of her unbound breasts to come close to them again until she pulled him in by force. He focussed on breathing above the physicality of her being right there, tried to centre himself and calm down but then he was out of the dance and he stumbled over nothing to pull himself almost completely free of her hands, brought back in with a stern “Yosuke.”

They weren’t doing a terrible job, as much as he could make out. Apart from the stumbles and dropped beats and crushed toes it was… fine? And Naoto was softer than he had imagined and short and small enough that he could just envelope her, and when she corrected him she would purse her lips in a way that was just so. He could get very used to it. She tugged him around again and it went less terribly, maybe when the prom arrived he wouldn’t make such a huge fool of himself.

They drifted close to the others who were all paying very close attention now although they were passing too quickly to catch their expressions.

What he did catch was the loud and unmistakable voice of Kanji, saying “Wow, senpai, I’m surprised that you’re OK with being the girl. Good on you!”

There was a moment he thought his legs had vanished, then that he was going to be on the floor and dragging Naoto with him, but he wrenched himself out of the hold as he came to an immediate stop. He glared at her accusingly but she gave him back her usual cool stare. 

“What good was that supposed to do me?” he asked. He could hear the hurt in his voice and he hated it.

“It’s what I know best. You need the basics, and that is the quickest way to teach you. It’s just the same but mirrored, the essentials are the same.”

“That’s not, it doesn’t work like that!” he returned, barely keeping his voice below a shout. He did and could not know whether that was the truth, but his pride was stinging with the sound of Kanji bellowing laughter, and Chie and Yukiko smothering giggles. There was no audible reaction from the others and he couldn’t bring himself to look. Instead, he spun on his heel and stalked towards the stairs, hands deep in his pockets as the urge to kick something warred with his need to not damage his workplace. 

“That’s it, I’m fine without the stupid prom! Enjoy yourselves away from me.” 

The bitterness in his throat and heat on the back of his neck didn’t begin to dissipate until long after the door had shut behind him and he was most of the way home.

He knew it was him overreacting, and that he’d made an ass of himself again, but that didn’t stop the slow sinking feeling that overcame him when he spotted that all-too familiar bowl cut as he left Junes the next night. All that he could hope was that his blow out hadn’t had more serious repercussions than he had anticipated and, if so, he could continue sinking right under the asphalt and get home unseen.

Tough luck, and as soon as the doors closed behind him Souji’s attention was fixed on him. He didn’t advance with any sort of fervour, and so he probably hadn’t fucked up too bad, but the slow and careful advance worried him in a different way. Yosuke had seen it before when he’d spotted Souji long ago trying to reach out to a startled cat, both of them as tense as each other. His hackles raised in spite of himself.

It was Friday night; he was tired and ached from being on his feet all day and his partner was about the only thing that could get between him and a hot shower in his current state. So he stayed put and waited to be approached and settled in for whatever varied request Souji would make of him with a cagey patience, the only sign of his impatience being to bob in place. The motion was a memory of that old battle dance and the pattern of it had developed since their time in the TV to be an almost subconscious soothing habit.

“Teddie told me where to look for you,” Souji said, his eyes down and voice quiet enough to almost be lost in the still of the night. 

Yosuke’s eyebrow quirked, “Junes wasn’t a difficult guess for where to find me, partner.”

Something was most definitely off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it and it irritated him. He bounced from leg to leg again, peering through the half light to see Souji’s face better.

“That’s true,” he allowed, and the tension eased ever so slightly. Yosuke breathed a sigh of relief.

“So,” his partner continued, now meticulously nonchalant, “prom’s tomorrow, would you like me to teach you some dance moves?”

It was a cruel suckerpunch that left him a gaping guppy again, but Souji got talking quick to make up for it. 

“You’ve got to learn fast to be ready, right? And I don’t have anything to do tonight so I can walk you through it - you’ll lead, of course - and I can’t show you anything terribly fancy but I know the basics and some easy stuff that looks complex, for the girls. If you don’t want to that’s fine too, I just thought I would offer since I’m here and...” 

Yosuke barely registered the words, but their cold logic started to win him over. If it was partner he wouldn’t have to worry about being teased too much for being his usual clumsy self, and there was a dark sense of satisfaction at the sound of “you’ll lead” that he wasn’t particularly proud of. 

And he did still want those dances.

“Sure,” he cut him off, his confidence huge and sudden. “Where should we go?”

“I was thinking of the riverbank,” Souji responded, looking a little shocked that he had been taken up on the offer. Yosuke flittingly hoped that it had been made in good faith, but if there was anyone on this planet he could trust to not fuck with him for sport it was the person blinking at him in that moment. “My room is too small, even if we moved all the furniture.”

“Mine is bigger,” Yosuke started, balking at the idea at being in public, before he reconsidered, “but I wouldn’t want my dad walking in on us, I’m already enough of a disappointment!” He laughed, but there was an edge to Souji’s laugh in response he couldn’t place and relegated to worry about later.

“The floodplain could work since it’s almost dark, nobody will see us except the drunks and who cares about them? Yeah, let’s do it. Thanks, partner!” 

He strode off in the direction of the river, aches forgotten and Souji a half-step behind.

As they walked Yosuke’s emotions cooled into vague trepidation, Souji’s quiet presence at his side more noticeable than the easy companionship that had characterised their relationship before. The worry that their bond had wavered or degraded in the time that Souji had been away was creeping into his head, and he hated it. Even if they were going to be dancing together, it wasn’t like that, just his partner helping him out. He didn’t want anything between them to change, and the thought of his ration of the little time he had while Souji was in Inaba being tarnished by his being an idiot rankled enough that he decided to give up on the whole venture and spend prom alone in his room with his hand as he had been planning.

He was just thinking of how to extract himself from this while minimising furthering his own embarrassment when Souji broke the silence.

“We’re here.”

Yosuke jittered to a halt as Souji smoothly skidded down the grass of the embankment, took a few steps out into the open and then turned to wait. Yosuke was grateful at least that he didn’t hold a hand out to him, but for a moment he intensely wished that his partner was easier to read; he couldn’t see any hint of emotion on his face as they stared at each other.

Fuck, he missed his chance. It was too late now, and the atmosphere was dense enough that he couldn’t back out without taking a hit. He dragged himself to the edge and took the slide slowly, not trusting either his nerves or the half-light not to betray him.

Souji is just as inscrutable up close, but he raised his right hand in the mirror image of Naoto and Yosuke relaxed a bit. He took his hand, the flipped position a little uncomfortable to get his head around, and his hand hovered unsure above Souji’s waist. It was too much, too girly, and the spike of fear rendered him completely immobile.

“On my shoulderblade,” Souji said as he put his own hand on Yosuke’s shoulder, and when Yosuke snuck his hand around to settle on the rough fabric of Souji’s jacket it was safe and impersonal, and he heaved a badly concealed sigh of relief. The closeness was new, sure, but unthreatening, and there was still plenty of space between them. 

“Shall we start?” Souji asked, and Yosuke looked up to him, suddenly aware that during that time apart they had apparently had matching growth spurts. A shard of him was upset they still weren’t level but the greater part was happy that this, at least, had stayed the same.

They began to move, and it was as if that delicate grasp he had managed with Naoto had never happened and he was back to being clumsy, off-beat and inflexible. Souji hadn’t given him any rebukes for his little mistakes, instead trusting that Yosuke knew what was going wrong and would sort it out himself. Probably. He couldn’t remember what to do with his feet, or whether he should be holding his partner further away or closer in, and now we was in charge of their direction he was trying to watch both their feet and the ground ahead so he wasn’t walking them into the bank or a burrow or the river...

“You’re thinking too much.”

He couldn’t deny it, but instead focussed on Souji for advice. 

“Naoto was right, you have the rhythm, agility and self-control to be perfectly able to do this, you just need to relax.” He spoke dispassionately, but his eyes were keen on Yosuke and he was pretty sure he had become an academic problem. Souji bucked the analysis by looking out past his shoulder as he continued speaking.

“Don’t think of me as the girl you like for this, while we’re learning I’m still me.”

Yosuke was surprised; he’d been too worried about the basics to be thinking about dancing with a girl. It would be difficult to confuse his partner with any of the girls in his year anyway; apart from the height difference being the wrong way round he was very much a guy. He’d bulked up through their months in the TV and kept the weight, and even through the muffle of his jacket Yosuke could feel the firmness of muscle. That solidness ran all throughout him, all the way to the fingers he held in his own. They were familiar from all the times they’d hauled each other to their feet, but the calluses were gone now. They were long and graceful like a girl’s (from memories of pulling girls up in similar battle circumstances) but instead of soft and delicate like Naoto’s had been they were strong and sure. Now that he was close he could make out the subtler ways his face had changed as well, chiselling out his edges to give him more definition while keeping the essence, the lack of stress from the investigation and his frantic lifestyle lending him a healthier colour even in twilight. He would struggle to pass for a girl now, even in skirt and wig.

Yosuke smiled at the image, the comfort of familiarity lulling him. He realised with pride that since he’d been distracted he hadn’t stumbled or stood on either of them, and now he had the flow of the movement enough to breathe and loosen his spine into a more natural poise than the strict hunch he had been locked in. 

He pulled Souji a little closer for control, and the hand in his pushed back ever so slightly. He caught a wisp of a smile in Souji’s eyes.

“It’s best to think of the dance less as a man and a woman, but a leader and follower. And while you have to not lead me into potholes or other dancers, there’s still a partnership here and I get a say in what happens. So there should be a balance here,” he pressed his hand against Yosuke’s, bending the circle between them to test it and Yosuke could feel the ripple of strength in his hand. “I can control how close we are or do some last minute steering, but you should take care that I don’t have to. You want to be at this sort of distance,” the circle flexed so that he was still close enough for him to see the individual hairs of Souji’s fringe lit up by the sunset but were now separated by what his mother would consider a ‘proper’ distance, “and you’re holding yourself upright enough, but you could do with leaning back a little more.”

“Can do, partner!”

He stretched obediently, and in the new pose was overcome with both a very gratifying air of professionalism, and a bone-deep knowledge that this is more finessed training than a waltz and slow dance at prom would ever necessitate. Maybe becoming more than competent with Souji would translate into being competent with a girl in his arms, and if there is one thing he would never turn down the opportunity for it’s to show off in front of Inaba, so he doesn’t bring it up. 

“Hey, I think I’ve got the basics down okay now, do you know any of the flashier stuff?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t overestimating his progress or Souji’s better knowledge. For a second he was too busy watching for a reaction to watch his periphery and almost walked them into the reeds, and his manhandling them back into safety pulled a laugh from Souji. It was deeper than it used to be.

“Sure,” he said, “I’ll need to lead to demonstrate though. Is that alright?”

“Sure,” Yosuke echoed. It was just following his partner, and what was more natural than that?

Souji’s hold was deft, and he led Yosuke in long, sinuous steps that immediately felt like a completely different dance and left him startled at the difference that ease, confidence and practice made. When had Souji had time to get this good at ballroom dancing in amongst his thousands of envelopes and cleaning bedpans?

He led him around the little patch of grass that they’d been patrolling until Yosuke got used to the old new stance and rhythm. The only heads-up that he got was a quiet ‘okay’ before Souji broke hold and moved his wrist, angling his hips so that they were walking side by side and Yosuke simply followed along. He had expected to need detailed play by plays of all the different moves but Souji made it natural, changing their momentum just so and they clasped back together, spinning him away and back or turning him as they stepped. At one point he tried a manoeuvre that required pulling their arms up and down past their heads and Yosuke elbowed him in the face, but they just smiled, tried it again, and it worked. It was all effortless, Yosuke simply letting his feet follow where his partner led, and before he could stop it he dissolved into laughing with a carelessness that surprised himself as he was oh-so-carefully flung about. So this was being light on your feet. Souji laughed alongside him, his teeth flashing lamplight, and he wondered when it had gotten dark. There was still space between them but he was constantly aware of a broad chest and long legs as they brushed past each other, the pace climbing and movements growing increasingly daring. The thought of changing over so Yosuke could hamfistedly careen them around was so unappealing in the face of this easy fun that he let it slip quietly into the night, content to go where his leader guided him.

They were flying around the floodplain now, finally happy and relaxed enough to enjoy the dance and the easy way they worked and moved together, Souji watching for him and guiding him without a trace of pushiness so that he barely missed the music. Finally he let himself see Souji properly; his averted eyes, heavy breathing, the blush of exertion and his frustrating proximity. He slowed his steps just enough for Souji to catch on and bring them to a slow rotation and relaxed out of his tight posture.

“Slow dancing is just the same, right? I should probably learn that one too.”

There was a flash of conflict across Souji’s face before he schooled himself into a more neutral expression.

“Yeah, it’s pretty similar. You’ll catch on to it fast.”

They didn’t switch for Yosuke to lead again; Souji pulled Yosuke’s hand to his bicep and curled his own palm against the jut of Yosuke’s hip, thumb brushing aside material before lying still.

Yosuke’s breath caught in the cool evening air, and he cursed himself for it. It was considerably more intimate than he had anticipated with one hand in his own and the other on his waist, and the light hearted atmosphere thickened almost imperceptibly when Souji took a half step closer to leave them awkward inches from being pressed together. For his part, Souji darkened visibly even in the dim light that left him grayscale, and Yosuke warmed through in response. 

“Okay, and…” they were off once more, molten and languid steps taking them in smaller circles, which he was very glad of since most of his brain was stuck on the feel of his partner in his arms; the pressure of his warm hands, the outline of his bicep in Yosuke’s hand, the lips so close to his own that he could feel the white cloud of winter breath on his cheek as they spun. His eyes were carefully trained on observing the world around them as it passed, and the lack of connection stung. 

Yosuke folded and pulled himself through those last few inches so they were flush together from chest to hip and was rewarded with Souji instantly meeting his eyes. He gave his usual wink and grin, although it didn’t feel quite at home on his face, and then it was his turn to guide Souji through several missed beats and misplaced steps before he was back to himself, gray eyes locked to Yosuke’s. 

It was intoxicating to be so close to him, feeling his muscles turn tight and lax, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against his own, to hear the slight waver in his voice when he told him to change the angle of his pelvis and they slotted closer. When Yosuke slid his hand up to hold the nape of his neck he watched shock be replaced with peace, be replaced by a tiny and warm smile and half-lidded eyes. He drank it all in, combing his fingertips through the short, stiff hair there and marvelling at the way his partner was melting beneath his fingers, their clasped hands loose and pulled close between their bodies.

Yosuke was lulled soft and pliant as he pulled his right hand free to trail it up the side of Souji’s face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw as he rocked just slightly up onto the balls of his feet. 

Souji was taut and still as their lips brushed, a ghost of contact too brief to be a kiss, and the stiffening of the body against him was what pulled Yosuke out of the fantasy he’d wandered into. He kept his hands where they were as though to jerk back would startle Souji into flight, slowly pulling his head back until he could focus on his face and figure out how badly he’d fucked up.

There was no way of knowing, his partner having completely retreated into the blank shell, not letting even a trace of emotion show on him other than his rigidity, which could mean a multitude of things.

The silence continued, and he screwed his eyes shut against whatever was coming. Stupid, impulsive shithead that he was. You don’t go around kissing your best friend when he’s nice enough to try and give you lessons on apparently basic skills so you don’t embarrass yourself. Real friends would apologise if they made that big of a mess, but Yosuke couldn’t quite regret it, and was getting nowhere with the urge to startle into him into a reaction by trying again. In the light of this revelation he was also growing uncomfortably aware of how he was still crushed against Souji along the length of their bodies, and was going to have to move away soon or he’d have far more to explain.

“Is this part of the rehearsal for dancing tomorrow as well?” Souji finally said, and Yosuke opened his eyes to ones soured and stormy. His heart clenched and he shook his head so fast he must have caught Souji in the face with his hair.

“No! It’s, I don’t know what it was but I… partner, you...” he bit his lip, the mental blocks he had so meticulously constructed getting in the way of what he needed to say. It was too fast, it had been so long since he had seen Souji and now all of his emotions were crashing around inside his heart and he couldn’t get them organised. He swallowed the words and fell back on action instead, reaching to him to press a sweaty, dry, cracked kiss to his mouth.

Blurry eyes widened at him before there was a rush of air through Souji’s nose and he went loose, arms looping around Yosuke’s waist to pull him closer as he pushed into the kiss. A quiet chuckle shivered through him at the strange reflection of their hug in this same spot the year before, but he was too overwhelmed to worry about being girly right then; he was kissing his partner. They were kissing each other, and it wasn’t terrifying like he had always thought it should have been. It was Souji, and he was what was right.

They moved together, heads tilting and kiss deepening in short breaths and tight fingers until it grew hungrier - morphed into saliva on their chins and throaty gasps. It wasn’t graceful or beautiful but it was raw, and when Souji grabbed Yosuke’s hips and rolled against him they came to a sudden mutual understanding of what exactly was going on here. 

Souji led him once again, urging him backwards in small stumbling steps, never leaving each other until Yosuke’s heels hit the bottom of the embankment and he cottoned on, sitting back on the grass and feeling horribly exposed to the night for the second before his partner was down there with him, mouth on his own and pawing at his shirt.

He arched up against him and Souji pressed his weight back down, a leg between Yosuke’s that rubbed at his growing hardness as they moved together until he let out a moan that he was instantly mortified by, but which the satisfied glint in Souji’s eyes told him was very becoming. 

“Partner,” he huffed out, unable to articulate what he wanted but knowing he wanted something, and Souji read in that one word all the command he needed. He edged a hand between Yosuke’s jacket and shirt, dragging his fingertips down his ribs slowly, then palmed across the plane of his stomach until he reached his belt. Yosuke felt at this point he should say something, quip something, but there was nothing. He just stared into Souji’s eyes, hoping that he would see the entirety of his trust, and eagerness, and this other foreign emotion he hadn’t rationalised yet.

He was heard, and Souji worked fast at his belt until his fly was open and his straining dick was free in his boxers - then the fear caught up with him for a second. He put a hand on Souji’s wrist, whispered “not quite yet, I need a moment,” and his partner didn’t judge him, instead he leant down for a sweet kiss that they held as Yosuke busied himself with Souji’s belt, the intricacies of undoing it blind and from the wrong angle occupying his mind enough that he almost didn’t realise what it meant. 

But then Souji ground down into him through two thin layers of fabric and it was all very real. They gasped against each other and he pulled him down into another messy kiss as Souji levered himself up to straddle Yosuke’s thighs, centring himself along the same axis before he rocked down again. 

Yosuke was burning up as they rutted together, his hands in Souji’s hair with one of Souji’s clamped under his pec and the other holding his weight on the slope, skin clammy and breath heaving. It was uneven, all of the rhythms they flaunted earlier completely abandoned as they lost themselves to their sheer animalistic need. It was so good, the pressure and friction and weight and Souji, but it wasn’t enough, not quite, and he reached down between them and pulled his dick free into the chill air. He gave himself a few quick strokes before Souji’s humping rubbed his clothed dick against Yosuke’s knuckles and his lust-addled mind gave up on caring. 

With a hand on the small of Souji’s back to stop him moving he fished Souji’s swollen cock out of his briefs and held them together, skin to skin, the weight and length of it more tangible for being felt, not seen. A drop of pre-cum dropped on the back of his hand. It took a moment for him to find the right angle for his wrist, but with the first pull of his hand, some of the angry hunger in his brain was mollified by sweet pleasure. Souji mumbled a quiet, “fuck, Yosuke,” against his mouth before he shifted and attached to his neck with a sharp sucking kiss before peppering his way along his jaw. 

With his partner hot in his hand and on his throat there was no finesse in his hand, jerky and a bit too strong but then Souji bucked his hips again and the friction was sublime, and when he followed suit it pushed him right to the edge; the syncopation and pressure and satin slide against each other built in him until he came with a cry that was only half from his throat before Souji was on him like he wanted to swallow it from his lips. He gave a few staccato thrusts and then he was coming over Yosuke, still and tense before collapsing beside him.

It was several minutes before either of them recovered enough to speak. Souji got there first.

“You know, I came here with ulterior motives.” His voice was soft between slow deep breaths and carried a sadness that had Yosuke rolling over to peer at him through the night.

“Uh, partner, that’s a little imposing considering what just happened,” he replied, although there was little fear in him that he had been coerced through some Machiavellian ploy. He would trust Souji with anything, least of all his heart.

“I suggested I help because I thought this would be the one time in my life I would get a dance with you. You can rest easy that this is very far from how I imagined the lessons turning out.” 

Warmth, longing, and grief washed over Yosuke, and he was left with lingering guilt. There was so much unsaid there, an old hurt; he had offered his aid with such a simple and lonely prize and then still considered it selfish. Yosuke wasn’t surprised, but he could make sure that it didn’t ever come to that again.

He rolled onto his side to face Souji and watched his eyes dart down to where his coloured shirt must be dotted white before meeting his own with a shit-eating grin that shone in the light from the promenade. A flush burned him with the unexpected obscenity of it, and his benevolence evaporated. With his best ‘deep-thought’ wink he touched a finger to his lips.

“You’re a great teacher, partner, and this was a pretty good rehearsal for tomorrow, but I definitely want to end up with fewer clothes after all that dancing with my plus one.”

Souji looked suitably caught between disbelief, hope and resignation, so Yosuke only left a little gap before he continued.

“Will you be my date for prom? And this time you can get a dance with actual music.”

Souji didn’t bother to respond, only rolled his weight onto Yosuke and crushed their lips together with a chuckle at the back of his throat that rolled into Yosuke’s lungs as a full-bodied laugh. They’d figure out what they were, what they would do, and what to say to the others later. 

None of it mattered at that moment; there was only the two of them covered in grass and cum stains, stinking of sweat, tired and aching and not caring a bit for anything other than each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Original post:  
> By popular demand, Yasogami High decides to host an American-style prom night for its graduating class, and everyone's excited--
> 
> \--except Yosuke.
> 
> See, problem is, Yosuke doesn't do ballroom dancing. But someone on his team should be able to teach him, right?
> 
> (Yosuke/Any of the IT, awkward dance lessons that lead to SEXYTIEMZ. Bonus points for Naoto. Bonus points for Naoto playing the part of the 'male' partner. Or Souji coming over to visit and knowing he'll only get this one dance with Yosuke. As long as there's lots of flail and awkward sexual tension.)
> 
> This thing wanted to be gen so badly, it's been a while since I've had such a tough smutwrangling. I also hope it isn't too obvious I'm not American and so probably have less than no idea what American proms are like, or if prom waltzing would be at all like the informal waltzing I've done in my time, but hopefully it's not too jarring if I did get it all wrong.


End file.
